Times we say goodbye
by quick-rape
Summary: USUK, T for mentions of sex, but nothing really graphic. 5 times they've said goodbye.


Times we say goodbye

1.

After their first meeting England had stayed long, for the first and the last time. He told America many English fairytales, full of fairies and magic, he cooked him dinners and in the evening he tucked him in. Late at night, after some story-telling, America frowned slightly, eyes half-lidded as he whispered sleepily his goodbye in tired voice. England laughed, sincerely amused and ruffled blond hair after correcting little boy.

' We should say good night before sleeping, goodbye you might say tomorrow, when I'll be parting'

America didn't respond in any way, he just closed his eyes and complained wordlessly. England only noticed a little frown of tiny brows and he sighed. He placed a loving kiss on boy's forehead and muttered silent 'Good night, sleep tight'

Next day America doesn't say goodbye. He just stares at England and England feels guilty for leaving him all alone. It's England who speaks first, his eyes running from boy's face. He feels unnecessarily ashamed when he says 'Goodbye'.

2.

On the muggy field England kneeled and kneeled in something which felt like eternity. His men weren't fighting anymore and tears on England cheeks also gave up. He wasn't crying. It was something more, something that couldn't be eased just by tears. He felt as his heart had been taken and thrown away, and trampled by every pair of heavy boots of men from American army. In his mind there were only few words. _Betrayed, rejected, helpless_. Over and over again, in some kind of monotonous rhythm, slowly killing him from inside. England grabbed some mug, his fingers shaking. He squeezed fist and then there were soft sobs heard, his face hidden in arms. And he was up, misery on his face. He looked around, with some kind of stupid hope that maybe this hadn't happened, maybe behind those trees his little America will dash out and laugh cheerfully, happy for him, happy of being here with England. Loving him. But trees remains the same as they stood, heavy with wet leaves, dark and scary. England heads back to his quarters slowly, with each step feeling more helpless and betrayed. He doesn't look back.

If he did, he would surely noticed blond hair wrapped in dark bark, a blue uniform and even more intensive blue eyes looking at him, lips on the mugged face moving in a soft motion.

'Goodbye, England' and America stares at England's back far too long. After a while, when man hides in his tent, America steadily returns to his happily celebrating people. He smiles at them and laughs at the happy thought of being independent and free. But he knows somehow, in the back of his mind something tells him, that tiny, little voice, that it's not right. That it could not have been the last time they said goodbye.

3.

Loud sound of flying airplanes and soldiers shouting orders and commands makes it difficult to hear the other one speaking. America had to stoop to catch England's words. He was saying something of the latest war tactics, but, first of all, America knew better. And wasn't it Eisenhower who was commanding both British and American armies? And, second of all, it's been ages since they had an opportunity to see each other. There was no point of saying all this stuff England was babbling about. Of course, it was cool to hear his voice. It was nice to see his eyebrows knitting in such cute way. But thing that wasn't cool nor nice at all was that England hadn't looked at him yet. They were talking for more than two hours already, and he had his sight focused on everything and everyone beside America.

And America didn't like to be ignored. So he tried everything- he laughed even louder than ever, he made some weird points. England pouted, sighed and yelled at him, but his eyes always remained away from America's face.

So America has no other choice than to ask him just like that, straight forward.

'Listen, England' green eyes focused on him for a second, but then they were away, looking at the blue sky. Everything was silent for a moment.

'Yes? What is that?' England asked cautiously, brushing away invisible dust from his uniform. America stopped and stared at him silently. He opened his mouth but suddenly the sky was filled with the noise and raiders and America felt completely stupid, with his sentence stopped in the middle of speaking and blushed face in front of him. He wanted to repeat, but England's face went even redder and he turned away, muttered shakily "Goodbye, America, see you tomorrow at five am' and walked surprisingly hurried.

America stayed a little puzzled, but then he laughed and went after England to catch him and tell him everything anyway.

4.

England seemed pretty depressed lately. America couldn't tell, but he supposed it might be something with his last boss. America found her pretty interesting- she was so determined and liked his boss. He didn't know why England would have something against her- she caused so many great things and she was all happy to co-operate with the American president. But England, as all of them, was always highly concerned about people of Britain. And they weren't so fond of Iron Lady's rules, not at all. She made country stronger, but he could read in papers that Brits were on strikes all the time. None cares about whole nation when their own life is poor and they barely pay their way.

So maybe it was the main reason? Yes, it could be. America sunk deeper into his armchair and frowned. England should be here in ten minutes, and what's more he didn't sound very well on phone. America could only hope that what happened to England wasn't so bad.

Phone. America answers- it's England, calling that he can't make it today, some unexpected but very important appointment or something.

In the end he says 'Goodbye' in a tiny voice and before America has a chance to respond, phone goes dead. And he feel great anger that he can't be there for England, to cheer him up somehow.

5.

Their first time was surprisingly simple, without big words of passion or dramatic confessions. It just happened day before America had to come back to fulfill his duties in the country.

Beautiful night, special night, night full of heavy sighs and moans, dark night, seized by blue and green eyes, by emotional whispers. Night of hands searching for each other, night of slow and rough motions, night of sweetly creaking bed, night of dense air. Of many pointless words, of slow and angry kisses, of endless need.

And next morning spent in a hurry between looking for the clothes, packing, feeling somehow guilty, between the shy smiles and frown eyebrows. Morning which should've been spent in peaceful atmosphere, long laying in bed, cuddling and whispering sweet nothings. But they are special, they've always been, with them nothing can be plain and simple.

So England didn't say how much he loves America, how he doesn't want him to go. America doesn't say how long he's been waiting for this night, how he wants to hold England and never let him go away, never let him part again.

They know that this time goodbye means something different. Both of them is oddly scared of something that can happened when one of them say this farewell first. America clears his throat and smiles slightly at England.

'I've gotta go or I'm gonna miss the plane' he looks at England with all his love, with all love that can be devolved by just one look. England nods and touches America's arm cautiously. His eyes are fixed on his feet and the silence is unbearable. In the same time they both say 'So, goodbye then'. America laughs and hugs England with all his might. Oh, not with _all_ his might, he doesn't want him to get hurt after all.

England twitches but then he clings lightly to broad chest and tries to stop weak sob. America kisses his head, his cheeks and with hurt look he turns back.

When door slams after America, England feels almost like his heart was torn out and thrown away, and for the first time he fully understands how big his house is without loud voice with American accent. He rubs his forehead and heads for the kitchen.

No, even tea won't be much help in this situation. He sits calmly in the kitchen, until hours later his phone rings and when he picks up, he can hear so loved voiced, laughing and saying the fly was totally okay but boring.

And when they end this conversation between two so different and faraway continents, England almost feel that maybe he won't be so scared of saying goodbyes, not anymore.


End file.
